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Logan
got ready for his date while Emmett and Emmett’s new little boyfriend, Gavin,
sat on his bed and talked. Emmett’s boyfriends always said that they were
twenty-one, looked eighteen, and annoyed the crap out of Logan.

“Let me make sure that I understand this,”
Gavin said, and Logan gritted his teeth, tucking in his shirt and fixing his
belt. “You’re dating two guys at the same time.”

Who Logan dated was none of Gavin’s business.
Gavin wouldn’t even be around a month from now. Logan had just been through
this same damned conversation two weeks earlier with Emmett’s last boyfriend.

“And they’re brothers,” Gavin said.

Feeling no need to participate or reply, since
Gavin was doing just fine on his own, Logan stepped into the bathroom to comb
his hair.

“You can’t believe how hot they are,” Emmett
said. “They have the hottest dark eyes, so even when their mouths say ‘hello’
their eyes say ‘sex.’ Bryan’s the responsible one, he’s the one with the office
job, I met him right when he got off work one day and he took off his tie and
rolled up his sleeves and I just wanted Logan to get the hell out of the
apartment so I could have my way with him. Bryce is the bad boy, he works in a
record store part-time and a porn shop part-time. They both have this really
thick, short black hair, but he has red splashed all through his, and I know
that he has a tattoo somewhere but Logan won’t tell me what it is.”

Gavin pretended to lower his voice, but Logan
heard every damned word. “Does he fuck them at the same time?”

“Logan says that they don’t do that, and he
says that he doesn’t want that.” Emmett’s tone left it up to Gavin to interpret
that statement however he chose. “Apparently, Bryan and Bryce have never dated
the same guy before, so this is all new territory for them.” Logan didn’t have
to look to know that Emmett’s expression indicated sly disbelief. “But if you
were dating twins who just happened to share an apartment-”

“They live together?!” Gavin squealed,
pretending to be shocked. Logan wanted to hit him. “He’s dating twins who live
together? What does he do, just roll out of one bed and right into the other?
Does he even notice a difference?”

Notice
a difference? How the hell could he not - - “I have to go,” Logan said, coming
out from the bathroom, grabbing his keys and his wallet. “Emmett, I’ll see you
later. And,” he said, raising his voice as he headed for the front door, “do me
a favor and break up with Gavin before I get back.”
Walking
up the two flights to Bryan and Bryce’s apartment, Logan thought back over
Gavin’s words. “Does he even notice a difference?”

Notice a difference. Notice a difference
between Bryan and Bryce. Between the way Bryan smiled - - open, inviting - -
and the way Bryce smiled - - amused, smirking. Between the way Bryan talked,
friendly with an outward focus, more interested in other people than in himself;
and the way Bryce talked in short sentences with a bitter edge. Between the way
Bryan moved with that slightly, faintly self-conscious air, like he’d been
accused of being clumsy as a child, and the way Bryce moved, utterly relaxed,
casually unconcerned no matter where he was. The way Bryan dressed, button-down
shirts and ties for work, jeans outside of work, casual T-shirts and shorts or
sweatpants around the apartment. The way Bryce dressed, dark clothes, jeans
sagging, managing to make even brand-new T-shirts look five years old.

The way Bryan kissed, soft, hungry. The way
Bryce kissed, demanding, aggressive. The way Bryan made love, needy, eager to
be touched, soaking up affection. The way Bryce made love, rough, physical.

They both wanted to be loved. They both wanted
to be accepted. They both wanted to be recognized and appreciated as
individuals. Bryan was more quiet and subtle about it; Bryce was, by turns,
demanding of it and defensive about it.

They watched different TV shows and listened to different music. Bryan liked
movies, any movies, all movies; Bryce liked videogames and porn. But they had a
lot of basic similarities. They were identical twins, a perfect genetic match.
They liked all of the same food, they ate with the same mannerisms, they slept
curled in the same positions, and they had the same bad driving habits. They
both had the same sexy little shudder when Logan kissed their nipples. They
both liked to have their napes stroked while they gave head. They both muttered
random words while they slept. Sometimes his name, sometimes work-related words
(in Bryan’s case, “copier” and “memo,” in Bryce’s case, “VCR” and “dildo”).
Sometimes each other’s names.

When
Logan knocked, Bryan opened the door and gave him a bright, welcoming smile.
Bryan was always happy to see him, which made Logan feel like a minor
celebrity. “Hi,” Bryan said, giving him a warm squeeze and pulling him inside
the apartment. “Dinner will be ready in a couple minutes. How was work?”

“Work was just fine,” Logan said. He smelled
chicken. Bryan cooked actual meals; Bryce either made something simple like
grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, or called for pizza. “I met Emmett’s
new boyfriend.”

“Gavin?” Bryan asked, setting the table.
“What’s he like?”

“He’s just like Emmett’s last twenty-seven
boyfriends,” Logan said, getting the flatware.

“So he’s cute?” Bryan asked with a smile,
checking on the food.

“Cute,” Logan said. “Immature.
Irresponsible. Vapid.”

“The four of us won’t be going on a double date
any time soon?” Bryan guessed, turning off the oven.

“Maybe we can double date when Emmett finally
goes on a date with a real person, and not a well-trained facsimile,” Logan
said. “That smells great.”

Bryan laughed, tucking his feet up and leaning
into Logan, one hand on Logan’s thigh. “You have terrible taste.”

“I spent all of last weekend watching a
marathon of classic romances with you,” Logan said. “Twenty black-and-white
movies in a row are hazardous to my health. I need the healing power of car
chases and loud explosions and machine-gun fire.”

“You find machine guns soothing?” Bryan asked.

“Rejuvenating,” Logan said.

“I worry about you,” Bryan said, resting his
head on Logan’s shoulder.

Onscreen, three men pointed guns at each other,
threatening, arguing.

Logan
stroked Bryan’s hair.

Logan
had met Bryan and Bryce Bright over a year earlier. He’d been in the mall,
picking up a gift for Emmett’s birthday, and he’d stopped in a record store.
Actual vintage albums. He didn’t even have a record player, and in retrospect
he couldn’t remember why he’d gone in, but mysterious forces had tugged him into
the store.

He’d roamed around for a few minutes, wondering
if he should pick up something for his parents.

“Looking for anything specific?”

In the middle of searching aimlessly through a
bin, Logan had straightened and looked into gorgeous, long-lashed, dark brown
eyes. He’d mumbled something inane like “Uh, I don’t know,” and just stared.
The eyes belonged to a gorgeous face with a sexy smirk; a guy with red-streaked
black hair was leaning over from the other side of the display, arms crossed on
top between signs labeled “Classical” and “Jazz.”

“I’m supposed to work on providing better
customer service.” That smirk again; Logan felt himself growing hot as his
cheeks turned pink. “You’re the only customer here. How can I service you?”

A question he could answer! “Yes. I mean,
no. I mean,” he was absolutely flailing, “it’s for my parents. The record. If
I buy one.” Logan could have sworn that at one point in his life, he’d
considered himself smooth. Now he wasn’t even coherent.

“Parents.” His pale skin was flawless. His
lips looked soft, full, more red than pink. He had three black studs in his
each earlobe, and a silver hoop through the top of his left ear. “Any
particular reason? Anniversary?” Stepping back, he began to walk, and Logan
realized that he was coming around to the other side of the display. They were
about to be face-to-face with nothing between them but air.

“No real reason.” The guy wore a black T-shirt
emblazoned with the name of a rock group, black jeans, and black sneakers. His
clothes were a few sizes too big, and he walked with a comfortable stroll.

“They like Tchaikovsky? Beethoven? Vivaldi?”

“Tchaikovsky.”

“Good taste.” He flipped through the bins with
nimble fingers, clearly familiar with the inventory. “What about Mussorgsky?”

“Mussorgsky?” Logan repeated. This guy was not
only gorgeous but good at his job?

“You know, ‘Pictures at an Exhibition,’ ‘A
Night on the Bare Mountain.’” He hummed, handing over the album. “Good shit.”

“Come back sometime and I’ll service you
again,” Bryce said with a grin, and walked off to help the people who’d just
entered the store.

After paying, Logan walked through the mall,
album in hand, replaying those too-brief moments with Bryce. Rewriting them in
his head, creating different outcomes. What if he manufactured a reason to go
back? He didn’t even own a record player, but so what? Bryce didn’t know that.

Dazed and horny, he wandered into a bookstore.
Emmett’s current boyfriend was a photographer, so Emmett was suddenly interested
in photographs, and had asked for “artsy coffee table photo books” for his
birthday. Logan walked down the main aisle, looking for the “artsy coffee
table” section. Passing the humor section, he looked past travel and…

Logan stopped walking.

He backed up and peered around travel.

It wasn’t Bryce. There were no red streaks in
the hair, and no earrings, and he had on completely different clothes,
shirtsleeves rolled up. He had on a watch and a tie.

But he looked like Bryce. He looked like he
was Bryce. He had to be Bryce, only he couldn’t possibly be Bryce, which meant
that…

There were two of them?

Maybe Logan’s eyes were playing tricks on him.
Except he’d just stared at Bryce, he’d memorized every feature, and this guy had
the same smoothly curving jaw, the same red mouth, the same-

Whoa, definitely the same eyes. Those
long-lashed depths were unmistakable.

“I’m sorry, am I in your way?”

Logan knew that it sounded like a ridiculous
pick-up line, but he had to ask. “Do you have a twin brother?”

Not-Bryce laughed. “That’s Bryce. I’m Bryan.”

“Bryan,” Logan repeated. Wow. There really
were two of them. The first one must have come out so gorgeous, the universe
had fallen in love and made another. “I’m Logan.”

“Nice to meet you.” Bryan shook his hand.
Definitely the responsible twin. “What’d he talk you into buying?” The
question was asked with curiosity and a trace of pride.

Logan realized that the record store bag in his
hand was a dead giveaway. “Mussorgsky. For my parents.”

Bryan laughed. Apparently, they were both
easily tickled; Bryan chose to laugh out loud, Bryce chose to smirk with silent,
cynical amusement. “He must be thrilled. He loves selling classical music.”

That made no sense to Logan, but he wanted it
to. “Why?”

“He hates the golden oldies. He won’t even
talk to customers who touch those sections. The classical, the jazz, the comedy
albums, anything else, he likes. The golden oldies fans, he calls them the ’45
flippers, people who come in looking for Beach Boys recordings and ask him if
there are any more Smokey Robinson albums tucked in the back room somewhere.”

Bryan’s smile was charming. Logan filed away
the information on Bryce and asked, “What about you, do you like classical?”

Bryan’s
smile widened. “I like the Beach Boys and Smokey Robinson.”

Logan
made a few more visits to the record store. He made up excuses to go to the
mall, and while he was there, he just happened to be gripped by a sudden and
urgent desire for a record.

On his third visit, Bryan was there, too. It
turned out that Logan and Bryan got off work about the same time, and sometimes
Bryan came to the mall to eat dinner with Bryce while he was on break.

Logan ate with them a few times.

He bought a record player.

The three of them went out to the clubs. They
went to the movies. Soon he saw them more often than he saw Emmett.

When Bryce was busy at work, Logan and Bryan
went to the movies together.

When Bryan wasn’t around, Logan stayed for
hours at the record store, talking to Bryce, alphabetizing the albums in the
bins, listening to music.

The record store dropped Bryce’s hours down to
part-time. He got a second job, at a porn store. According to Bryce, it was
better than flipping burgers. He used his employee discount, bought some
videos, and showed up at Logan’s apartment with them.

That was the first time that Logan kissed one
of the twins. It was also the first time that he had steaming hot, intense,
loud sex with one of the twins.

The next morning, as the hormonal surge waned,
Logan asked Bryce what was happening. Were they lovers now? What about Bryan?

Bryce said that he had no intention of taking
Logan away from Bryan. He also had no intention of giving up Logan for Bryan.

Logan met Bryan that night outside the movie
theater. They sat in Logan’s car and talked. Bryan said that he and Bryce had
talked about it, argued about it, fought about it, and come to an agreement. If
Logan was willing, they’d both date him. He could split his time between them
as he chose. It would be awkward, but it was the best compromise they’d come up
with.

That was the first night that Logan kissed
Bryan. The first night that they made love.

Bryan’s
schedule was steady. Bryce’s work schedule was anything but. Logan tried to
divide his time up evenly between them. At first, he’d spent most of his time
with them at his apartment or out in public, but then Emmett had moved in with
him, so now he spent a lot of time with them in their apartment.

As the
movie ended and the credits rolled, Logan slid his hands up the backs of Bryan’s
thighs and under his shorts, squeezing his ass, kissing his mouth. “Did they
save the little girl?”

“Mm, I don’t, ah, know,” Bryan said, kissing
him back, hands stroking up his chest under his shirt. “I think so. They blew
up the bank.”

Logan didn’t even remember there being a bank,
but he’d spent the last half hour making out. Bryan had seen the movie before,
so he’d trust Bryan’s memory. “You smell so good,” he murmured, groaning softly
as Bryan’s hand slid down between his thighs. “Oh, god… Bryan…”

“He had a really bad day, he’d love to come
home and see you,” Bryan insisted, and disappeared into the bathroom.

The door opened.

Bryce entered the apartment. He moved with his
usual casual stroll, but his expression was dark. Giving his hard-on extra time
to cool down, Logan turned off the TV and watched Bryce glare bitterly into the
refrigerator as though it had committed some personal offense.

“Hi,” Logan said. “It’s good to see you.”

“It always is.” The refrigerator door slammed
shut and Bryce turned away, facing the sink, curling his hands over the edge.
“I’m popular as hell.”

Logan studied the tension in Bryce’s back,
rising from the sofa and walking in that direction. “How have your twenty-four
hours been?” he asked carefully. That was the question that Bryce frequently
greeted him with.

“Fine.”

There was too much tension and anger in Bryce’s
voice. Work couldn’t have made him this upset.

Logan put his hand on Bryce’s back. Slowly
rubbed up between Bryce’s shoulders, then down.

Water ran in the bathroom. The shower. Bryan
didn’t shower at night; Bryan showered in the morning. He was giving them time
together.

“I’m not going to talk about it.”

“That’s okay.” Logan rubbed Bryce’s back with
slow, firm strokes. Bryce almost never talked about his mother’s phone calls,
but they always left him tense. Tonight was worse than usual, but not the worst
that Logan had seen. “We can talk about something else.”

“Every single one of Emmett’s boyfriends who’s
met me, has hit on me. Do I have a sign on my back that says ‘I’ll cheat on my
boyfriend with you if you’ll cheat on yours with me?’”

“No, no signs back here.” Logan tugged him
around until they were facing, and gently rubbed his chest. “None here,
either.”

With a bitter sigh, Bryce leaned back against
the sink. Logan leaned against him, and Bryce’s arm rested around Logan’s
waist.

“Half of them think that I have a tattoo.”

“I know. Emmett keeps telling them it’s in a
scandalous place.” Bryce didn’t have a tattoo anywhere. Bryan had one, but
Logan preferred not to confuse Emmett with the truth.

Bryce rubbed Logan’s back.

Logan wrapped his arms around Bryce more
completely. Bryce smelled just like Bryan tonight. “I love this cologne.”

“Free samples in the mail.” Bryce’s hand idly
caressed Logan’s spine.

Logan smiled to himself. Bryan never used too
many complete sentences in a row. “Did you have dinner?”

“No.” When Bryce was upset, he skipped meals.

“There’s chicken in the fridge.” He let the
idea marinate. “It was good.”

“Hmm.” Bryce left a gentle kiss on his neck.
“Corn?”

“Peas.” Logan rubbed Bryce’s lower back. “I
can warm some up for you.”

“Okay.” Bryce kissed his cheek and separated
their bodies. “I’ll go make sure he’s not drowning.”

Logan smiled, turning to the refrigerator as
Bryce went into the bathroom. He heated the chicken, peas, and a roll in the
microwave as the shower stopped.

The bathroom door remained shut.

He scooped out ice cream, giving himself
something to do. He found himself oddly tense; he didn’t want the constant
conflict between Bryce and his mother to infect Bryce and Bryan’s relationship.

Bryce’s mother had certain expectations for her
sons. She made comparisons between her expectations and their realities; she
made comparisons between Bryce and Bryan. Inevitably, she found Bryce lacking.
Bryan had a “real” job, an office job, a job with a desk and a phone and a
computer. Bryce worked two part-time retail gigs, one in an adult video store.
Bryan dressed like an adult; Bryce dressed like a college drop-out. Bryan made
decent money, could support himself, drove a comfortable car. Bryce didn’t have
health insurance and drove an old, rusty, two-door. Why couldn’t Bryce be
responsible, like Bryan? Why couldn’t Bryce be mature, like Bryan? When would
Bryce grow up, like Bryan? Bryan had always been so smart, so well-liked, so
friendly, so much better than Bryce.

Everyone thought that Bryan was the better
twin. Their mother did. Their father did. Bryce did. Two people didn’t. One
of those two was Logan; he didn’t think that either one was better. They were
different, and they had their own strengths and weaknesses, but neither one of
them was innately better than the other.

The other person who didn’t think that Bryan
was the better twin, was Bryan. He thought that Bryce was the better twin.
He’d always loved and admired Bryce’s independent spirit, Bryce’s calm
determination to be himself. Where others saw attitude and laziness, Bryan saw
someone refusing to be what everyone else wanted him to be and finding his own
path. Bryan saw strength.

Logan loved Bryan and Bryce, because they loved
each other more than they loved anyone else.

It even spilled over into his relationship with
them. Bryan worried about Bryce, especially after their mother’s calls, and
sometimes encouraged Logan to spend more time with him, claiming to be suddenly
busy; Bryce didn’t want Bryan to worry about him, and always refused Bryan’s
efforts. It was part of their dynamic for Bryan to find new ways to look out
for Bryce, and for Bryce to politely but insistently refuse Bryan’s help.

A quick burst of Bryan’s laughter, and Logan
relaxed at the brightening of the mood, smiling at the reassuring, familiar
sound. The door opened; Bryce came out, followed by a clothed, damp-haired
Bryan.

They ate, and they talked about Logan’s boss
and Bryan’s coworkers and Bryce’s customers, and they found another action movie
on TV.

As the movie neared its end, Bryce stood,
ruffling Bryan’s hair and leaning across Bryan to kiss Logan. “Good night.”

“Maybe you should…” Bryan twisted his fingers
through Logan’s and looked down at their hands. “He needs you more than I do
tonight,” he said quietly, lifting his gaze.

“Did he tell you that?”

“No,” Bryan admitted. A smile quirked his
lips. “He said that it was very nice of me to offer you to him, but he could
wait until tomorrow night to get laid.” The smile faded. “But it’s not about
sex, he needs…comfort, he needs you there, he needs to feel loved.”

The bathroom door opened; Bryce had a
toothbrush in one hand. “Logan, do you love me?”

“Yes,” Logan said, smiling.

“Bryan, you love me?” Bryce asked.

“Yes, but-”

“Great, good night,” Bryce said, and closed the
door again.

Bryan met Logan’s eyes, then gave in and
laughed. “Okay. I guess you can sleep with me tonight.”

With a happy chuckle, Bryan stood, pulling
Logan up after him. “I’ll suffer through sex, for your sake.”

“That’s generous of you,” Logan said, following
him into the bedroom. “I’ll try to be quick about it.”

“That’s
not necessary,” Bryan said, drawing him towards the bed. “I’m very resilient.
You take as long as you want.”

Logan
got ready for his date while Emmett and Emmett’s new little boyfriend, Hayden,
sat on his bed and talked. He and Bryce were going to grab a quick dinner and
then go to a concert.

“Are you kidding me?” Hayden asked in a shocked
stage whisper while Logan was in the bathroom fixing his hair. “He’s dating
twins? Identical twins?”

“Identical from head to toe, including sexy,
sexy dark eyes,” Emmett said. “Except for the red streaks in Bryce’s hair. And
his earrings. And his tattoo. I haven’t seen it, but it’s there somewhere, I
just know it.”

Logan stepped out of the bathroom, fastening
his watch. “Actually, Bryce doesn’t have a tattoo.” He smiled. “Bryan does.”

“Bryan?” Emmett repeated, wide-eyed. “What is
it? Where?!”

“He put it in a private place, so the whole
world wouldn’t see it.”

“What is it?” Hayden asked, dramatically
breathless.

“It’s just one word,” Logan said, checking his
pockets, picking up his keys, his wallet.